Time to Begin
by Pir8grl
Summary: A collection of short pieces, set during or after The Time of the Doctor.
1. Chapter 1

Clara darted forward and slapped at the emergency shut down switch on the console. Immediately the wild shuddering ceased. She reached forward to gently pat the time rotor. "Thanks, girl. Rest a bit why don't you?"

"Thank you, my dear," the Doctor - the new Doctor - enthused. "Splendidly well done. I'm sure I would have remembered that in a moment or two, but thank you all the same."

"Not sure we _**had**_ a moment or two," Clara replied shakily.

"Nonsense. The readings showed we had a solid two point five three minutes before we collided with anything significant."

"You couldn't even see the monitor from where you were standing," Clara challenged, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Stubborn little thing aren't you?"

"Yeah," Clara snapped, "and if I wasn't so stubborn, maybe you wouldn't still be here!"

"All right, I will grant you that," he conceded, with a gracious half bow.

Clara stared at his strange, new countenance, trying to find some hint of her own Doctor. There were traces, in the manic grin, and the depths of his eyes, far too old, even for this face. Her chin wobbled slightly.

"Oh, what is it now? I'm sure I can't look all that bad."

"No, you don't. It's…you promised not to send me away again - _**promised**_ - and then you did it anyway!"

He couldn't meet her eyes, looking instead at the console and pretending to fiddle with something. "You girls are all alike, you know. Silly, precious, stubborn girls…it never occurs to any of you that in all my centuries of life, I might just have learned how to look after myself. It never occurs to any of you that it might just be easier for me to keep to the task at hand if I'm not worried over the safety of the people I -"

"The people you-?"

"Care about," he mumbled.

"Do you still?" Clara whispered. "Care…about me?"

He stared at her, slack jawed. "Of course I do! How can you even ask?" He reached out to tip up her chin with gentle fingers, a new gesture, perhaps, but one that felt so very right. "My impossible girl. My Clara."

Clara smiled tremulously, then stepped forward too slide both arms around the Doctor's waist, resting her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeats.

The Doctor wrapped his arms around her, tentatively at first, then with the desperate strength she'd known before. "Thank you, Clara Oswald."

"What for?" she asked, looking up at him curiously.

"For staying with me. For not turning away or hiding. I will always remember that the first thing these eyes saw was _**you**_, looking at me, and holding out your hand to me…that I wasn't alone."

"You'll never be alone as long as I'm around."

"I rather like that idea. Well then, shall we begin?" He turned to the console and touched a control, which promptly hissed and spit sparks at him.


	2. Chapter 2

For one glorious moment, standing all alone, up there on the roof, facing down the largest assemblage of Daleks since the Time War, he could suddenly feel them again, inside his head. His people, reaching out to him, gifting him with a new regeneration, saving his life, and all those lives under his protection. He could hear their voices again. He'd been so alone, inside his head, for so very long. For all that he loved the friends who'd taken his hand, and taken up residence in his hearts, none of them could ever touch the empty place in his mind that was meant to be filled with the sense of his people's presence.

Their voices swirled through his mind now, some pleading, some with the arrogance that set his teeth on edge, some with curiosity, some tolerance, and one with a gentle affection. He welcomed them all.

_"Save them."_

_"Use this gift wisely."_

_"Save us." _

_"Another human. Typical." _

_"Remember us." _

_"There is strength in her."_

_"Find us." _

_"Cherish her." _

For once in his life, he'd listen to them.


	3. Chapter 3

His Impossible Girl.

His Indispensable Girl hit a bit closer to the mark, but didn't have quite the same ring.

His Clara.

She'd saved him, so many times, and now she'd done it again. A young, human, girl, with the cheek to call out the almighty Time Lords of Gallifrey and demand they do right by their wayward son. He literally wouldn't still be here, if not for her. She astonished and humbled him.

He hoped, rather desperately, that this all wasn't too much for her. True, Clara understood a good deal more about his people than others that he'd traveled with, but still…she'd seen him age, then become young again, then regenerate, all in the space of a few hours of her own personal time line. It was a lot for anyone to take in. Hell, it was a lot for _**him**_ to take in. He wanted - no, needed - her to be all right with this. He couldn't bear the thought of starting off on a new lifetime of adventures without her hand in his.

She was his Clara.

That was all he really needed to know, wasn't it?


	4. Chapter 4

Clara was curled up on the rug in front of the fire when the Doctor entered the library, teacup in hand. He cursed himself silently for not thinking to bring enough for two. Basic good manners, that. He almost turned away to go fetch another cup, but her voice stopped him.

"Are you all right?"

"Fine." He'd lost count of how many times she'd asked that today, but he supposed it was a bit inevitable. He walked over to the couch and seated himself rather stiffly upright.

Clara immediately scooted over to lean against his legs. It was a familiar gesture, and it heartened him to know she felt comfortable being that close to him.

"What are you reading?" he asked curiously.

"A Christmas Carol," she admitted sheepishly. "It seemed appropriate."

"Immensely so," he agreed, taking a sip of his tea. "Will you read some aloud? It's just…I do like the sound of your voice."

"All right," Clara said, smiling. She turned to the beginning of the book, mindful of the crackling antique paper and leather, and began to read the timeless tale.

After a bit, Clara rested her head against his knee, and the Doctor's hand drifted down to gently stroke her hair. It was an activity that his last body had been quite fond of, and it seemed this one was, too. He was pleased that she seemed so happy and comfortable with this strange, new him. He didn't think he could bear to lose her right now. He knew it would happen someday, of course. Far too much heartbreak had disabused him of the notion of forever, but just…not now. They'd had so much upheaval recently, surely, they deserved a bit of peace.

Clara paused at the end of a chapter, and without thought, he passed her his own half full teacup. She sipped gratefully.

"I met Dickens, once."

"Tell me about it?" Clara asked eagerly.

"Are you sure?" he challenged. "Some it was rather frightening."

Clara flashed him that impish grin that he loved so much. "If I get scared, I can hold your hand."

"And what if I get scared?"

"Then you can hold mine."


	5. Chapter 5

Clara looked up from her book with a startled gasp. The Doctor was standing before her, resplendent in a new suit. His former self had been a mass of flailing arms and squeaking shoes, and she generally had plenty of warning of his approach, but this new body moved with silent grace, appearing in her field of vision as if by magic. "Nice suit," she said, with a warmly appreciative smile.

"Thanks. I thought you might like it." He'd hoped she would. He recalled she'd admired his pinstripes. That particular bit of tailoring didn't suit this body, but he was rather pleased with the ensemble he'd managed to put together. Rather flattering, if he did say so himself. And practical. No ruffles or bows or silly scarves dragging behind him.

"Clara," he began slowly, "do you forgive me?"

"What for?" Clara asked, her eyes wide with confusion.

"For changing. You asked me not to, but it was a whole new regeneration cycle. I had no choice this time. I know you liked the last me."

Clara set down her book and rose to stand before him, reaching out to take his hand. "Doctor, I've never met one of you that I didn't like."

"Not even when I had curly blonde hair and a suit that could pass for a circus tent?"

"I never really met that one," Clara laughed. "Do you...forgive me?" she asked softly.

"Whatever for?"

"For not listening, when you told me to stay away…"

"For being Clara, you mean." He raised her hand to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. His other hand came up to tuck a lock of hair behind her hear, then softly stroke her cheek. "Only…I need to know that you're safe. I don't think I could bear to lose you again."

"Promise not to send me away again," Clara begged.

"Promise not to jump into the middle of horridly dangerous circumstances," he countered.

Clara gazed up at him with a cunning glint in her eye. "Hold my hand, and we'll jump together," she suggested.

A broad grin spread over the Doctor's face as he looked down at her. "Deal."


	6. Chapter 6

The Doctor smiled slightly as Clara shifted in her sleep, curling a little closer into his side. He supposed he really should move her to her own room, but…he didn't want to. He wanted her here, beside him, where he could watch over her and just be _**aware**_ of her, the way he hadn't in so many of their previous encounters.

That fellow with the black leather jacket and abysmal lack of civility would have made a comment about sleep being a waste of time, but he figured she was entitled, after her trip through the vortex, clinging to the outside of the TARDIS - and really, how had she managed_** that**_ feat? Just one more mystery about his Impossible Girl, he supposed. And he did love a mystery, no matter what face he happened to be wearing.

He was oddly content, just now, to sit here in his library, with Clara by his side, basking in the warmth of the illusory fire on the hearth. She looked innocent and fragile in her sleep, and so very young. It was hard to believe that this was the girl who'd faced down one of the oldest races in the universe on his behalf. She shivered slightly and he frowned.

"Cold," Clara murmured.

The Doctor touched her cheek lightly, finding it to be comfortably human-warm, but he dragged down an afghan from the back of the sofa to drape over her anyway.

"So dark…"

She must be dreaming of that trip through the vortex. "Hush now, Clara, you're perfectly safe," he assured her.

"Got to get back to the Doctor…"

"You did, Clara. You found me. We're fine now, I promise." But were they? Really? Mere hours ago, he'd have taken Clara in his arms to comfort her without a thought, but now…he hesitated. Other companions had been put off by regeneration. Even his darling Rose had been confused at first.

Clara whimpered again, and that decided him. He moved instinctively, sliding his hands through her hair and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "Clara, wake up, now…you're having a bad dream."

Her eyes shot open and her body stiffened, then relaxed again as she recognized him. "Doctor…"

"That's right," he said encouragingly.

Clara stared intently into his eyes, then reached up with one small hand.

The Doctor caught it, pressing it against his cheek.

"It really is you."

"It really is."

She shook her head, blushing. "Sorry. I got a bit muddled about what was real and what I dreamed."

"Perfectly understandable. It's been rather a long day. Wouldn't you rather go to your room and get comfortable and have a good long kip?"

Clara blushed and bit her lip, looking away from him.

"What is it?" he asked gently.

"I'm afraid…"

"Of the bad dreams? I can fix that for you. A very mild telepathic suggestion should do the trick."

"No…not the bad dreams, not exactly. I'm afraid…"

"Of what? Clara, tell me. I won't let anything hurt you, I promise you."

"It's you. I'm half afraid that this is a dream. That if I walk away, you'll vanish."

He turned suddenly and grasped her arms firmly. If not for the absolute trust Clara had in the Doctor, she might have been frightened by the intensity of his actions. "No, Clara. _**No**_. I'll never leave you. Not voluntarily. D'you understand me? Do you believe me?" he asked, his tone softening considerably on the last sentence.

Clara swallowed and nodded.

The Doctor's arms relaxed, drawing her in to rest against his chest. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "If it's truly what you want, I'll hold you while you sleep, but it doesn't matter where you go…I'll still be here when you wake. All right?"

"Wanna stay," Clara murmured sleepily, wrapping both hands around one of his arms.

"Rest, then," the Doctor told her, his fingers drifting idly through her hair. "I'll be here when you open your eyes."


End file.
